Musings
by aodhan292
Summary: Elphaba is thinking


**A/N **Short little drabble I came up with. Not part of my other little verse but I kinda liked it none the less. Enjoy.

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Elphaba is thinking. Nothing unusual there, Elphaba often thinks. She thinks on many things, how she is going to someday meet the wizard, how she is going to change the world, anything to keep her inside her head and outside the reality of her solitary life. She likes it that way, there is nothing to tease and taunt her there. Well, except for herself maybe, but being an expert in internal debate and wanderings, she likes to think she can keep her mental self in line fairly well.

What is unusual, is not the increased minutes she finds herself musing, but rather, the subjects of said musings. After all, of all the times Elphaba has wandered into her head, she'd never been greeted by a perky blonde before. Okay, while thinking about one's roommate may not be cause for alarm she tells herself, daydreaming and even possibly fantasizing about one's roommate, certainly is. And so, after determining that not only are such thoughts inappropriate, but completely unlikely to ever become reality (Glinda has Fiyero after all) Elphaba forbids her mental self from going down that path ever again and is fairly confident in her ability to do so. She's an expert after all.

Several weeks later, Elphaba finds herself thinking again. Thinking about how she had promised herself not to walk a particular mental path ever again. Well so much for that, she scoffs silently as her blonde roommate shifts beside her, running dainty fingers across sharp green collarbones. Putting her internal scolding aside for the moment, she glances at their bodies, still naked and damp from the nights activities, noticing the sharp contrast between the skin tones and yet again the contrast between both shades and the pink sheets of Glinda's bed. She ponders it for a moment or two, before deciding that it's not entirely unappealing, it has, in fact, a certain charm. She can just picture her inner self, smirking at her smugly. It's a smile that says I told you so, and drives her mad. She quickly forbids herself from being too smug about this whole thing and is once again confident she'll be able to hold it in. She's an expert after all.

A couple years later, Elphaba is smirking smugly. So much for being humble, she thinks, as she watches the jealous faces glancing up at her where she stands at the alter. She knows what's about to happen, and suddenly berates herself internally for venturing too far into her head during a time like this. This is no time for profound wanderings, and she's grateful for the interruptions to her thoughts by Glinda's entrance and the entrancing walk that ends at her side in front of the minister. She makes a quick note to finish her thoughts later when it's a more appropriate time and conductive to thinking. She's an expert after all.

Fast forward several more years, Elphaba is thinking. Nothing unusual there Elphaba thinks a lot. She thinks, about what to make for breakfast, what clothes to wear, what chores need to be done. What is unusual, however, is not the content of the musings per say, but the amount of time spent on said musings, or lack there of. It seems to Elphaba that the once safe space in her head, is not nearly as accessible as it once was. She finds herself unable to pull herself away from the reality of her warm and loving life. Try as she might, she just can't find anything but a cozy contentment anywhere in her head. No internal debates, conflicts or wanderings. And as she watches Glinda chasing their little girl around the backyard she can't help but admit that maybe thinking is a little overrated. Who in there right minds would rather be lost in their head, when they could be right where she was, selfishly taking in the delighted squeals and giggles as her two favorite blonds frolic around the yard. And, as Elphaba shamelessly joins the fray, she can't help but be a little grateful that she's not the expert thinker she thought she was.


End file.
